Algol
by Nommy
Summary: A child born of evil, welcomed into the life of a man who had no reason to accept her; Algol Al Ghul. After her rescue from the Pit by her father, Algol is trained by the League of Shadows and moulded into a deadly assassin. The assassin her sister, Talia, could never be. Pre BB, story follows Algol and her life from then until post TDKR. WIP, reviews & thoughts welcome!
1. Comfort Came Against My Will

Hello, people. Wow, lots of Batman stuff this month. This is pre Batman Begins, I love the character of Ra's Al Ghul, especially Nolan's vision of him. This story will explore his relationship with his daughter, Talia, and my OC, Algol who he adopts as his own. So, yeah, this'll hopefully be an enjoyable endeavour to read and to write. Please review, reviews are great. That's pretty much it, oh and this whole story was actually inspired by a song.

'Black Flies' by Ben Howard mostly the line '_comfort came against my will..._'

* * *

**i.**

For as long as I can remember I have been mad. Yes, completely and utterly mad.

Mad to think I could fit in, even in these harsh surroundings. I have always been prone to 'frenzies' as my father thusly named them. He thought I could channel this 'frenzy', this heat, he thought I might channel it into my training to better myself. He was wrong. Madness cannot be harnessed, nor can it be subdued; I know this, for I have wrangled with my own demons alone and with futility for a number of years.

It is a black beast that ravages my mind, batters it like a furious Spring storm. It can be quite unrelenting in its offense. I never cry, though. I think that is to relent to this craziness, I only lash; bearing my teeth like a crazed wolf, I claw and scramble consumed in my need to hurt and tear. It is a most frightful ailment and not something many people are privy to about me. Only those that have encountered the beast even know of its existence.

My family are indeed the ones who have had the most contact with it.

My father is not truly my father. I have known this for as long as I have known him too. He pretended at first; out of love of me, I think. I will always bear a love for him for that, for I think his steady, unbending love is what kept the monster lodged in my mind at bay. Ra's Al Ghul is his name...was his name. I was more like him than my sister, Talia, ever could be. Where she was wild and uncompromising, I was patient and easy. I held no grudge against the world for my own lot in life; although I know she had a great deal to settle with this world. I understand some of her pain, although to comprehend all of it would be to unbar the gates of my animal and let it roam free and consume me. That thought scares me, so I distance myself from it, and from her.

Talia was a wild thing; unhinged and maybe as mad as I am. Although she never hid it well, throughout our adolescence she never conformed, much to our father's chagrin. She would snarl, lash out and break things. Her fury burned so with a red rage that could not be quelled, save by one; the man she called Bane. Her great friend. They were great friends, two animals' caged – kindred spirits. I felt that way about our father; although he was not mine I always felt a connection to him which remained unbroken until his death. He'd observe my training with such a careful eye I thought that maybe he thought me a more suitable assassin than that of Talia.

Which was true; I recall Talia's first kill. It was a messy affair, she cried, bawled and clung to her friend for comfort; drenched in the blood of her quarry. I was still quite young, too young and too engrossed in the blood that covered her shoulders to understand what it was that she had done. When my time came; I relished it. It was no personal endeavour against my mark, just simply what I had to do. I was destined to end that man and his line the day I was born; his time he had left was mine to give or to take. Our father's pride shone down on me that day and for the first time since our relationship as father and daughter began; I felt his love radiate through me and found that I wanted to make him proud. I craved his love like any daughter would.

He was a good father and a good kinsman to me and to Talia. She had his look, she did. The same dark blue eyes, that same commanding presence, she was definitely her father's daughter. I however, inherited more the look of our mother. Dark of skin with thick black hair, Talia's complexion was lighter than mine, more like her father than like our mother. Whoever my father was; _whatever_ he was, gave me his eyes. Eyes that captivated and, made people stare; they were the colour of cherry wood, a deep, deep brown with an almost ruby hue to them. I remember the day my father – then nothing more than a stranger to me – engulfed me in his arms and took me away from the Pit. He looked into my strange eyes and I saw him shudder; the blood of his wife, my mother ran around my irises. I think he despised me in that moment, but it evaporated as I came into my maturity, I began to resemble his dearly beloved wife and he learned he could love me – the only unbiased link to his past.

He chose to love me and to care for me. My father was a remarkable man and sometimes I think it's truly unjust that I will never see him again...That thought too brings out my madness, so I will not think of it. Thinking back to my life before this one; I think it's amazing how much has changed. Now that I am a woman grown, I can appreciate what my father sought to achieve with me, he thought he could smooth away my madness, that same imprinting that smothered Talia's mind, he didn't manage to but I pretended that he did. If anything, just to make him feel better – I didn't want the brutality of failure to colour his attitude towards me.

And no one wants to be thought of as mad by their own father.

I had no name when I was born either. My mother died so soon after my birth, the doctor simply called me Algol 'the _ghoul_'. It was fitting, considering the ghoulish circumstances surrounding my conception. My mother had been raped and killed by the men, the prisoners of the Pit. My father, my sire, it was said, took my mother, took her many times and consigned her to stay at his side until he was done with her. It gets hazy after that, I could never get the doctor to tell me more; he simply shook his head and looked away; although I noticed that he was impeccably thorough when it came to my safety.

"Algol," He said one night as he locked the cell door, "You are a devil, and devils must be locked away."

He said it as though he was breaking this news to me, he may as well have broken the news to me that I was a girl. I was very aware how dangerous I was, how nefarious...

Unabashed I lowered my eyes and pressed my soft forehead against the bars,

"I know that..."

For I did, I did know what I was. I was something unholy, something born of evil; something truly wicked, that's why I was still here, still trapped beneath the earth. I turned away from the doctor's anguished face and sat on the cot at the far end of the cell and watched them all; all the men. Talia was long gone at this point; she promised me that she'd return, that she'd come back for me, her sister and her friend, the protector. I watched them all with an indifferent curiosity, like a tiger might look back at the people who flock to zoos to gawp at them; resentfully at first, but after a while the resentment fades and you find yourself gazing back with the same curio that they eye you with. Mutual misunderstanding.

Of course, I was a little boy to them, but on more than one occasion they would leer at me closely and almost slaver. Their hunger, their cruelty did not frighten me; I found my madness then, that's when I found that I would tear them all limb from limb before they laid even a finger on me. There was one however who never looked, even when we shared a cell, he refused to even look at me. Once he did, and his eyes quickly darted away; like his own eyes had been burned at the sight of me. He was very sick, Talia's protector. His face all bloody and his back twisted. I tried to offer him some comfort, but he turned his broken back on me and looked to the wall, ignoring me and the doctor completely.

The doctor simply shrugged and carried on with his treatments until Talia's friend was 'better'. He sat very still and looked sad, I remember pressing my little face against the bars, the new doctor bustling around behind me while the old one watched me silently from his cell. I watched Talia's friend, hoping that he'd move; with Talia gone now, I felt I had some obligation to that man, but he never tilted his head to catch my eye, nor even looked over to my side of the prison. He just stared ahead as if his life had truly lost all meaning without his young ward. I sighed and looked down; I felt so heartbroken that I had no one down there. That all changed when my father appeared, falling from the sky like a mighty albatross, he entered the Pit and knelt before Talia's friend.

For the first time in months I saw his head move only a touch as he and my father locked eyes for the first time. Everything went by in a whirl then, father motioned for his men to help Talia's friend before he cast his energetic blue gaze over the rest of the prison until it fell on the doctor's cells. I recall seeing the inclination of his head as he strode over to me, my tiny hands gripping the bars, my wine-red eyes peering up at him and he knelt before me too and asked in a gentle voice in my own native tongue,

"What is your name, wee one?"

I was transfixed on the face of my father just as much as he seemed to be with me, his eyes were wide and his breath uneven as he stared at me. I pushed my hand through the bars and touched his face, feeling his prominent cheekbones and he closed his eyes and I saw a tear roll out from under his light eyelashes.

"Algol," I whispered, "Did my sister send you?"

Slowly his blue eyes opened and I saw his laboured smile as he pressed a hand to my own and I felt the warmth of family for the first time since my sister had left,

"Yes, sweetheart, she did."

He rose to his feet and I watched him enter the cell, no man had ever come into my own little cell before and I stepped closer to him, if Talia had sent him then I had no reason to doubt him. He fell to his knees again and looked over me; my closely cropped hair, my skinny little body; he looked appalled and so very sad. Knowing as I do now, I understand his horror; his wife was dead and the only remnant of her that remained was these two little girls, he must have felt overwhelmed then. I empathised with him; took his hand and pressed it against my heart and said,

"Please don't cry, birdie."

He frowned and cocked his head,

"'Birdie'?"

I nodded, "Doctor says that only birds come from the sky,"

I pointed up at the hole which he'd come down, the blue sky shone brightly through it.

"Birdies can fly, so they shouldn't cry."

He smiled and I felt good making him happy so I smiled too, my hand still clinging his and he looked at me for another moment before bundling me up in his strong arms. I wrapped my wiry arms around his neck and felt truly safe for the first time since I'd ever opened my eyes and been introduced to this cruel existence I had known.


	2. No Man's An Island

_"And no man is an island, of this I know..."_

* * *

**ii.**

"Focus, Talia! Learn control,"

Our father barked over my sister, Talia's, head. She pulled a face and flourished her wrist to parry a heavy blow from her adversary. I watched carefully and saw her growing more and more impatient with the delicate footwork and precision that was warranted from such battle. I was shaken from my thoughts by a thud as Talia fell back on her bottom with a grunt, her wooden stick slid away from her noisily. Father stood over her, looking down on her with his hands behind his back; his robe was tied loosely about his lean tummy.

With a cock of one of his bushy eyebrows he sighed as she scowled up at him impudently; we both knew what he'd say;

"You must learn control. Don't grow impatient; you must flow, like a snake you must slither out of the way. When you become irritated you're judgement becomes overruled by your emotion. Keep it in check."

He ended flatly and turned away. Talia got up roundly annoyed and watched as our father held out her stick to her and nodded, "Now. Try again."

"But Father!" She complained and he shook his head, slightly waving the stick.

"You _will_ learn this, Talia. Here." He ruled sternly, offering her the stick.

I smothered a giggle as Talia snatched her weapon from his hand and threw me a murderous look which told me to keep my laughing mouth shut. Father, seeing this, smirked too. At first I thought he was joining in with me and my grin widened in my confidence while he slipped round the room quietly to stand behind me and rest an affectionate hand on my head,

"I wouldn't cluck if I were you, Algol." He counselled good-naturedly, "You too will be learning this soon."

I frowned up at him and he was smiling down on me, his expression amused at my confusion. "What, did you think Talia was the _only_ one who'd need to train?" He asked with a chuckle and I nodded,

"No, you will learn too, in time. Now, watch Talia. Learn from her." He said sagely and his eyes looked past me to Talia and he nodded, "Now, you; again. This time try and curb your frustration. Take a breath, and let go."

* * *

Walking back to my room, my shoulder brushed Talia's arm. She was rolling her wrist and grimacing,

"What's the matter?" I asked her in Arabic and she looked at me. Her keen blue eyes narrow, "My wrist. I must have hurt it during training." She replied in her heavily accented English. I frowned uncomprehending.

Her own brow knitted together as she explained the language swap, "Algo, Father says we have to learn our languages. So you had better start practicing."

"I know," I said. "I'm just not very good at it. It doesn't stick up here." I lamented and pointed to my head. At that my sister giggled and ran on ahead. "Don't worry; you'll soon pick it up. Father says English is one of the easiest languages to grasp. Much easier than Arabic anyway." She assured me in our native language.

I smiled, "I hope you're right...Tal, where are you going?"

She turned back; her dark hair had grown out now. It was down past her shoulders, unkempt and untamed; just like her nature. Seeing her bright face, I knew where she was going now; out into the cold courtyard to see _him_. I sighed and jogged up alongside her and said earnestly, "Father says you were to go back to your room after training tonight, he said-"

"Oh, shush." She silenced me with a grin, "D'you always do what you're told?"

Yes. Yes I did. _Especially_ if it was our father who was doing the telling. "Talia," I began frankly making her look at me. "Father says you weren't to speak to him so much...He's worried for you."

"Bane was there for me more than Father ever was." Talia snapped nastily and rounded on me,

"And I don't know why you're so keen to do what he says. He's not your real father."

That silenced me. Looking away from her, I could see from the corner of my eye her sulky expression; she was sorry for what she'd said, but I knew my sister's pride would never allow her to apologise for that piece of spite. I nodded, "I know it." I responded through cold lips and fell back allowing her to continue on her way, leaving me behind. Watching her go, I sighed and turned my attention to one of the grand windows that looked out at the mountains.

We were in Nepal for a spell; Father said we were to be here for some time. I liked it here, it was crisp and refreshing and so different from the Middle East where I was born. Where all the bad memories were. I was warm wrapped up in my robe, I caressed the fabric that draped over my thin arms; it was so fine, so different from the rough material I had worn beneath the ground. I shook my head and put it from my mind; I never think of it, I never even spoke of it. Talia had tried again and again to speak to me of our ordeal but I always pretended that I didn't remember anything. Father thought that was good, he thought me blessed, but I did remember.

I do remember.

My eyes climbed the lonely mountains, I ached to explore them but Father had ruled that Talia and I were not to leave the confines of the great house; more a temple than a house actually. A very beautiful old monk's temple. The monks still floated around the place, the peace of their order seemed to descend around us, it was a comfort to me and I often enjoyed the meditation tasks our father set myself and Talia. She was too restless for that though, she fidgeted and complained that she wanted to go outside and run around. How aimless I thought, why would you run around in a circle just for the sake of it? Talia always shrugged and said 'because' _because_? Really? What was the point? I'd press and she'd laugh out loud and say I was too serious.

I probably was. For a child of eight I was quite serious for my age. Talia, all grown up; a child of ten was learning the pleasures of life; running around for no reason, gulping down her food as though it was the last she'd ever consume, laughing, playing and hopping around the place. Just watching her was exhausting...and endearing.

"Algol?" I heard my name and looked over my shoulder.

My father's outline was framed in the door of the training room me and Talia had just come from. I smiled weakly; seeing my expression, my father made his way over and leant up against the window frame and peered down at me as I resumed my vigil out of the window, so small in comparison to him – I barely came up to his hip.

"When will my training start?" I asked ponderously without looking at him. I heard his chuckle, "Eager? I thought you weren't keen for it." He said in English and I grimaced as I fumbled for the correct response, aware that his eyes were on me.

"I am like to start?" I looked up sheepishly and my father was smiling warmly at me, his arms folded over his chest. "You _would_ like to start?" He queried with a small frown and I nodded, looking back out the window.

"I your daughter am. Have to be strong, right?"

He nodded slowly and leaned down to be eye level with me. I watched him as he also looked out of the window, the bright light making his eyes become electric blue;

"Have to be strong, yes." He looked at me, "You are already very strong, Algo."

I turned to eye him; he was looking out of the window and he gave me a sidelong look; "So you would like to begin your training like your sister?" I bobbed my head, "Yes...I want to be stronger."

"Why?" He frowned puzzled. "Why would you need more strength, sweetheart?"

"To be more like Talia..." I confessed in a small voice. It was no secret that Talia could pin me down and hold me there. As siblings we were partial to our squabbles. My father smiled at me as if I were very naive and said,

"To be more like Talia? Sweetheart, you don't need to be more like someone else. You're you and you're perfect. But if you want to begin your training then I will allow it." I beamed and grinned broadly. My father's face was a picture of sternness as he warned,

"But only if you understand the seriousness of your decision. I would rather you wait another year, but if you're certain that you want to begin then we shall. Do you understand, Algol? You can't just abandon your training because it's too hard. You have to be committed."

"I understand, Father." I vowed with a smile. Unable to resist, a smile broke out along his face too and he held me close, nuzzling my neck making me squeal. When he abated, a smile still played on his face while I hung from his arm. "Where is your sister anyway?" He asked me and I immediately sobered,

"I don't know." I lied quickly. Too quickly for him and he looked at me closer.

It was written all over my face, my father knew where Talia was and who she was with. I dislodged myself from his arm and lowered my gaze, unwilling to meet his accusing glare; he sighed heavily and said almost exasperated; "You girls..." I looked up and he was searching the floor, his face blank. As if he felt my eyes, he turned to me and waved a hand,

"Go to your room, Algo. I'll see you at dinner." He said before sweeping off, assuming I would go to my room.

I gazed after him as he went, his gait was rigid, his robes swished around his legs furiously as he strode away to find my sister.

* * *

There was a storm rung over my poor father's head that night. Talia, in her anger threw books at him, cursed him in broken English and in fluent Arabic. I sat mum and watched from the sidelines, my sister's ugly displeasure with our father.

"Talia!" He boomed, "You will control yourself-"

"No!" She countered, "You cannot tell me what to do! You barely know me! You were never there! _Never_!"

That was like a physical blow to Father and I watched his expression soften into one of utter sadness at what his daughter had just said. She knew she had him right where she wanted him; at her mercy, his affection was so great for her that I think she knew he would crumble. My father was a solid man; but his love for Talia often blinded him. She smirked knowingly and spat, "You left _us_ in there to die."

She didn't mean me and her. She meant our mother and herself and I saw my father's face fold and age at least twenty years. His pain at her, my mother's, that is, loss was still very poignant.

"You have no knowledge of what you speak, girl." He growled in warning. I heard the warning chime in his tone; Talia did not and carried on regardless to the bear she was bating;

"You let her take your place. You let her be raped and killed! You are the reason she's dead and the reason I am the way I am. The reason Algol's the way she is!"

I wondered how long before I was dragged into her mess. I sighed and saw my father eye me; he wouldn't stoop so low as to say what was going through all of our minds; that he was in no way responsible for me. The man that was, was most likely dead of plague and my mother...well.

I looked away, not willing to meet his eyes as I silently gave my ascent for him to disown me before Talia to cool her rage.

"I am not the reason for Algol." He finally said with a sigh, his eyes closed momentarily, silently begging my forgiveness at his chilly dismissal of me. I forgave him utterly. Wholly.

"You're right though, I am however responsible for the spoilt nature you seem to have developed" He said with a dark glint in his usually bright eyes, moving closer to Talia, he bent down, their same eyes level and he rumbled,

"Well, no more, Talia, my daughter."

She stepped back, fearful of his power. As was I, but even I could see that Talia needed guidance; a hand to lead her through this fire that burned so hot in her soul, blinding her to reason and respect. "I will have to send you somewhere, somewhere to calm that spirit."

Talia gaped. Father's face was stoic, his ears un-hearing to her pleas when she spoke them; crying and wailing like some crazed thing. My father watched silently until she wailed herself into a screaming fit; red-faced, her voice hoarse. I watched and listened too, to my sister's unbridled fury until she slaked herself into slumber, tear marks still tracked her cheeks. It was a long moment before my father gathered her up and looked down on her peaceful sleeping face; he knew she needed this, she _had_ to learn.

He peered back at me and nodded, very, very slightly and I nodded back at him; understanding completely. His eyes trailed away from me for a moment as though a thought was striking him, a thought which he did not wish to think but is realising that this is just the way things are. He said no more, nor looked back at me again as he left the room; Talia's sleeping form in his arms. He left me alone in his big study curled up on one of the big armchairs to fall asleep myself. Fatigued as I was from watching Talia's episode.

* * *

_Drawing inspiration from my own father's misery and the many, many temper tantrums he had rung over his unfortunate head during my own adolescence I truly do apologise for those storms, ha, but...need's must, right? I love my dad, he's a sweetie. _

**=3**


	3. A Shallow Poison

After seeing the connection one daughter has to a violent monster, it made sense to me that Ra's would be intent that his second one doesn't go down the same road. Uh, I should also point out (for the people who mailed) how to pronounce or read Algol - it's just simply 'AHL-GOAL' the 'AH' is basically pronounced like an lower-case 'a'.

Anyway, with that outta' the way; enjoy! & drop me a review if you want?

**;)**

* * *

"_I remember darkness, a shallow poison it has grown..._"

**iii.**

Blood, red. Obviously. Running precariously, almost rudely from my nose, dripping down my chin and onto the chest of my robe. I fall back, smacking my rump off of the polished floor, I can see Father; he's shaking his head, rubbing his forehead and then his temples which are already silver with anxiety. I won't add another grey thread to those sides, so with a determined breath I get back up and he looks at me. I wipe my nose and eye my opponent; they're much bigger than me, but when's that stopped me?

Never.

So, brutishly, I fling myself at them. Lashing, thrashing, like a trapped bat in a small place. It is frenzied, my father intervenes when the Initiate falls clutching his wrist, and my savage little attacks have left him with four broken fingers. I look up, a smile on my face; expecting to see a smile on my father's face too. There is none.

His face is hard and he is glowering quite angrily down at me. His eyes flicking from me to my wincing opponent. He helps the injured Initiate to his feet and claps his shoulder while I stand back, my head bowed and my hands behind my back. I didn't mean to beat him wrongly.

"Leave us." He commands of the others. They all file out and he kneels before me, gripping my small hands.

Blood is still trickling down my face, gently, he wipes the liquid away and gazes at it a moment. It is not his. We don't share blood, he and I, but I have never loved another being so much in all my life, save for Talia. I back away shyly, afraid that he is angry with me for the way I fought.

"Algo," He begins, his brow furrowed, "Who taught you that?"

I frown straight away; this is not what I was expecting. I shake my head, "Taught me what, Father?"

"To break fingers. Like you just did there to that Initiate. Where did you learn that technique?"

"Talia of course..." I say with a shrug and a rude little curl of my nose. He ignores it and seems to be biting down on frustration. I jerk my head and ask him shortly, "What's the matter? I beat him?"

"_No_." He says firmly. "No, you must always _best_ your opponent. Not simply over-power them, Algol."

I nod. I don't see the difference but I agree for fear of making him cross.

"Defeating an adversary with brute strength, power, it's _barbaric_." He leans in close and says to me passionately,

"It's about the _mind_, sweetheart. The body and the mind must work as one. You cannot hope to survive this training if you do not find a balance. You are detached, which is good. But do not become animalistic...foolish."

He leans back and regards me thoughtfully a moment; I see his eyes travel from my untidy mane of hair down to my blood-stained chin then back to my eyes which are searching his own countenance. "Only animals throw themselves into the fray with no thought as a show of their power." He goes on, and I duck my head in agreement,

"Animals or the very stupid. And in battle, wee one; they are the _first_ to die." He says seriously and I look at him.

"D'you understand?" He asks me earnestly and I nod again. "Yes." I say, "I understand, Father. I'll think next time before I throw myself at an opponent thoughtlessly."

I know this is the correct response because he smiles very brightly and catches me up in his arms. His praise enough of a reward for me. I laugh and throw my arms around his neck; his tenderness to me fills me up and makes me feel so happy inside. Finally, he puts me back down and says to me all business,

"Good. Now, again. And remember; _think_."

* * *

It is another cold day in Nepal and so very quiet with Talia gone. Father thought it best if she were to be sent off someplace far away from him, from us. I wish he hadn't sent her away; I miss her – more to my own surprise than to anyone else's. China is where she is now, Father sent her with only a small household; and oh, how cold she was as she was ushered into the small plane. She eyed our father as if he were the devil himself come for the bride and turned her back on him, climbing into the aircraft of her own volition and slammed the door closed. My father looked on, drawing up his height, he stood proud, but I thought I could see the quiver in his throat as he watched her go. It must have hurt something deep inside to watch her jet off. It hurt something deep inside for me; now, I find myself at liberty and completely lonely...Just like I had been in the Pit.

I sigh, maybe I should run around? No...Father would probably resent me becoming like Talia in her absence. I raise my eyes and peer out over to the mountains, hugging my robe around myself to bar the cold. I wonder what it would be like to fly up high like a falcon and nestle in the cold ridges, alone, majestic. I think it would be lonesome, frozen and bitter. Animals I learned in that second did not just exact upon themselves stupidity as my father has said, but exile and solitude too. Although, I doubt they actually _felt_ the loneliness. They do not feel it as I feel it now without my energetic sister running around me while I trail along in the middle of her rings she dances, head down, trying to ignore merriment.

Devils don't do merry.

The words of the doctor still stick in my mind, even after a whole of two years; I still hear them when I close my eyes to the brightness of the place I am now in my relatively short life. I hear him;

"You are a devil. And devils must be locked away..."

Maybe they should, but I read somewhere in a book that there are people who worship not just gods but devils too. I open my eyes; what a strange thing to worship, something that scorns you in return. Maybe they think the more they love the demon, it'll eventually crumble and love them back. No. I know from experience that the one thing demons are not is flexible. They are unchanging, with changeable hearts; who can fling away a person as soon as pick them up. My father...my _real_ father must have been a most disgusting devil.

My mind soon wanders again as a chilly wind blows me inside once more. I shake out my dark hair which is peppered with snowflakes and slip quietly through the silent house. It is lofty here, with only a few of my father's 'Initiates' as he calls them. Talia's friend and protector is here, along with his brothers in training. They answer to none but my father and his Order. What that Order is, he has yet to tell me – that is why I am training. I want to become an Initiate just like Talia and join my father's noble Order.

My brain is so bogged down in thought I don't realise that I've wandered into one of the high ceilinged halls; about twenty or so Initiates all litter the floor; this is most of them actually. My father is presiding over this meditational exercise at the front of the hall I see. He spots me and beckons silently with a jerk of his head. I nod and walk silently like a baby panther through the rows; none of them looks to see who it was who brushed their arms, their knees and shoulders; to do so would be to break the peace they have created around themselves which I am disrupting, but only barely. I alone should not be able to disrupt their peacefulness, although I see there is one who peers round. My father sees it too and shoots a sharp glare in his direction; it is Talia's protector. The moment he sees my father's blazing blue glare he bows his head back down, not very quickly like a whipped dog, but more so like an elephant that has looked up at the sky and would now simply look back down. Almost languorously.

When I am at Father's side, he places a warm hand on my thin shoulder and I look up, he smiles down gently and nods out over the rows of black-clad Initiates. As I glance over them all my eyes find Talia's giant. He sticks out – very much so. Not only so because of his mammoth size; but because of the mask my father had made to help him in his sickness. Talia's protector was very sick in the Pit, but after being rescued by my father along with me; he seems to have improved greatly, although I have never once heard his voice. I think the only ones who have are my father and my sister. It is so quiet in the hall; I feel my father's hand leave my shoulder as he idly strolls along the front lines of the rows with his hands behind his back.

As nobody is paying any attention to me, I sink down to my knees and begin to meditate myself; I feel Father's eyes on me, but I shan't open my own; he is always adamant that once you begin meditation you should see it through to the end of the allotted time or until you feel that you yourself have had enough time. Since I have accomplished neither, I won't open them.

It is a strange thing, but I swear I felt the glow of his pride as he watched me that day.


	4. A Fever Has Grown

"_There's a fever, I will not let it show."_

**iv.**

My mind snapped just before my ninth year; broke entirely. I remember the fervent mindlessness that engulfed me; I broke a man's arm in my ardent madness. Sliced at calves, spun my leg beneath feet, taking them out from under my assailants. My father looked on apprehension was prominent on his scored face as I, his little demon, battered his Initiates and beleaguered the room with their anguished bodies. The hisses and sharp in-taking of breaths made the haze lift; the fog cleared and I remember my father's furious blue eyes boring down on me; he was aghast at the lunacy, yet he was eyeing me like I was a good hand of cards; a hand which he might play to his advantage. So he said, with a wave of his hand;

"Up!"

He commanded of his Initiates and they all hefted themselves up. Some of the bolder ones threw me a dangerous glare, but the others were all too consumed in their agony to even dare a glower in my direction. With a careless jerk of his head, my father moved into the middle of the room and stood before me; his temples gleamed starlight in the first of the morning's gentle rays. I frowned quite puzzled, panting from the exertion of my battle, but his face was severe and stony as he bore his chin at me and barked;

"Algol, defend yourself."

I bit my tongue. Did he really expect me to fight him? I stepped back and he encroached on me, taking my momentary uneasiness into account and to his benefit as he lunged at me, very quickly – much quicker than I would have ever anticipated. I yelped and danced out of the way, quick and nimble on my feet. I landed, my knees sprung up like those of a frog's as I snapped my head up and beheld my father's blazing face; he looked to me as though he had been waiting for this; as if he would test my mettle personally. I'd show him what kind of daughter he'd rendered. I jumped up, he allowed it and watched me carefully; calculating his next move perfectly.

I was down with a cry as his foot was kicked into my stomach, throwing me back onto the floor in a sprawling heap, sliding back ungracefully. "_Think!_" He snapped, and I got to my feet with a stagger.

I took a moment; I eyed the area around his feet, up to his hands which were balled into fists and then to his upper body. He was in the middle of the room; there was no advantage to be gained for using the space around him. I bit my lip anxiously in thought and began to panic. I wouldn't be thrown down before my father again. I ran at him, he stood motionless as though my attack could do very little and I twisted myself just as I reached him and threw a punch at his face, he ducked out of the way smoothly and caught my ankle in an iron grip before twirling and thrusting me back to the floor again. I grunted as I landed heavily, my face reddening with this new defeat.

He stepped back lithely and eyed me closely; there was no feeling behind those eyes which I could see. He looked down on me emotionless; he was not my father in that moment; he was my adversary. With a snarl I threw myself back up and lunged towards him and caught his wrist in a weak lock, which he allowed again. With another shriek, I let him go as spikes jutted from his gauntlets; he strolled nearer to me as I backed off, he seemed amused with my reaction;

"Always be prepared for surprises. Your enemy doesn't want to die any more than you do."

He assured me calmly in the midst of my second attack. I gripped his arm and pulled him towards me, he turned and gripped my hand and pulled me through the steps until I managed to climb up his torso and rest my bare feet against his chest, my hands now locked behind his neck; I grinned a wry smile and raised my eyebrows while his own eyes widened in realisation. Without remorse I launched myself away from him, throwing him back violently to the polished floor while I flew through the air in a fluid flip. I didn't hear the gasp the other Initiates made as I rocketed towards the wall and smashed into it painfully. I had overestimated how far away I had been from it and found my body connecting with the solid wood panelling and I fell to the floor with a thud.

Peering up, my eye twitched painfully and my father was looking at me from the floor. We both knew who had one that bout when he gave me a lopsided smile and remarked idly,

"_Always_ mind your surroundings."

I found a smile and panted heavily as he got to his feet gracefully and offered a hand to me to help me up. I took it and was gently hauled to my wandering feet. My hand was trembling and he held me close. "You did very well." He said in a hushed voice and I peeped up at him and smiled softly as his eyes were no longer blistering.

* * *

My days were filled in Nepal with training, intense and burning, but I enjoyed the power bestowed for my work. Father never repeated that spar which we shared, as usual I would battle the Initiates and it was thoroughly drummed into me that I was not to break their bones anymore. I could feel my body hardening, my attacks quickening, becoming more and more deadly. I knew I was being crafted into something even more ghoulish as the days dragged on, quietly and without sunshine without my sister's energy to brighten anything up.

While my physical training came on by leaps and bounds; the theory was dreadful. I could still only communicate fluently in Arabic, my English was dreadfully broken, I could barely string a sentence together and I could scarcely write in either languages. My father sighed, his eyes downcast at my slowness in grasping the delicate nuances of language and ruled I should dedicate more time to it and not gallivant about the house and yard so much. I didn't resent it as much as I thought I would, but I found then that I had a short fuse when it came to my own inability to grasp simple symbols that were written down on a piece of paper. I gnashed my teeth and complained that it was too difficult. My father only raised one of his eyebrows and said grandly,

"Well you must keep trying. You _will_ learn this."

Suddenly I felt like Talia and my temper dimmed, forgotten as I heard him reiterate to me what he usually recycled over and over to Talia and it struck me that I hadn't asked him about her. "Father?" I started and he looked round at me from behind his desk, "Yes, sweetheart?" He replied and I fiddled with my pen;

"How is Talia? When will she be coming back?" I heard him sigh heavily and I looked up at him,

"She is well..." He said evasively and I frowned. "Her tutors tell me she is learning at a good rate,"

Jealousy spiked in my blood. Of course Talia was much faster than I, and I knew it. But it didn't diminish the blow any less. I was still too much her sister to not feel the envy of her learnedness and I nodded blandly. He peered at me suddenly and asked from across the room, "You miss her?"

"Yes..." I said and looked away, "It's lonely here without her." I explained and he bobbed his head.

"Maybe we'll join her soon, in China." He uttered almost to himself and smiled gently over at me, my own smile was broad and full of light, "I'd like that, Father." I made clear and he chuckled warmly at my mirth.

* * *

I turned nine years of age on the fifteenth of March – the doctor had decided my birthday in the Pit. On the anniversary of my life, my father deemed me ready to intensify my training. He paired me up with one of his Initiates, a man named Abd-Al-Aziz; to which I shortened to simply 'Al'. He was a quiet man, dark of skin; Arabic, obviously. I could tell straight away, not just because of his name but his face had the look. He reminded me of the men of the Pit, his very countenance was ghosted with memories for me. Not a handsome face for he was much older than I, he looked much older than Father in all honesty; his face was one which was riddled with scars and pain. A pair of dark eyes; inky and bright hung under a pair of frowning black eyebrows. His demeanour to me was very respectful and we would meditate together for great lengths of time.

"Algol," He said one day as we looked over the mountains.

"What is it?" I asked and he turned one of his black eyes on me and asked very frankly, "Do you know what it is the League of Shadows stands for?" I didn't. I knew the basics, but not the inner workings and I shook my head. He nodded and turned away, "Your father is a brilliant man. He has ordered me to watch over your training from now on."

My eyebrows rose.

"What do you mean?" I asked in Arabic and he shrugged, "He just told me to watch over you." I felt the furrow between my brows grow deeper and I looked down at my hands, "He's leaving again, isn't he?"

Al's silence told me I had guessed rightly and I exhaled a breath disgusted. Leaping to me feet, I was ready to storm off when I felt a hand grip the back of my robe. I whirled round to see Al's own eyebrow raised at my pertness and he asked primly, "Have you mediated until you are at peace?"

"No..." I replied weakly and he nodded as if that was the answer he expected and he motioned for me to sit myself back down. I sank to my knees grudgingly. After a while I began to feel gratitude towards Al. When I was done meditation I didn't feel angry towards my father for his looming departure when we sat down that night for our dinner.

The thought of being alone here without both Talia and my father filled me with so much fear; I truthfully thought my heart would burst. He was aware to my pain I thought; his eyes watched me over the table, hard and carefully. I ignored him as best I could, but I fear I squirmed under my father's scrutiny.

"Then you know." He said at last, placing his wine down gently next to his plate.

I peered up from my own plate; eyes wide and a lie on my lips.

"Algo," My father said to stop me. "Don't think me a fool. I don't think you one."

A soft sigh escaped me and I bit the inside of my cheek and looked away from him. My impertinent little shrug made him sigh too, he was sighing at my caginess. He got up and I said nary a word as he moved round the table and vacantly gazed out of the dark window and said gently;

"Abd-Al-Aziz will take care of you. He is no ordinary Initiate, Algol. You will be safe under his tutelage until I get back." He turned and eyed me; my stare was still away from him, locked with the shadows in the corner of the room. "Are you listening to me?" He asked and I nodded without looking round;

"Yes, Father. You're going away and leaving me to be looked after by someone else."

"No," He stipulated frankly and made his way over to my chair and knelt beside me. I could feel his hard gaze on me so I turned to see him. He looked tired as he said,

"No, I am not leaving you. I know you'll be safe, but there are things that demand my attention. I must go. D'you understand?"

"No..." I shook my head, there were tears in my dark eyes and I thought I saw a look of intense sadness run across my father's face. He didn't like it when Talia or I cried. It was a low move, and I knew it was picking at the rotten apple to guilt-trip him into staying but I was so afraid of being alone, buried here in the mountains with no friend or protector of my own. I did not want to be parted from the only presence I had ever truly trusted and had grown to know and love. I shook my head again, "No, I don't understand...Why are you leaving?"

With another sigh my father patted my head and drew me down closer and whispered, "Because I must, sweetheart. The League of Shadows is everywhere, I am the sole leader of our Order, and I cannot be everywhere at once, but hell, if I have to try and be." I sniffed and asked, "Will you tell me now...What it is the League of Shadows stands for?"

Swiftly he got to his feet and ran a hand down his closely-trimmed beard and shook his head as he turned away from me and uttered in English – so I could not understand him very well.

"_You are so young_..."

"Ab?" I queried, there were tears on my cheeks now. He turned and clicked his tongue once he beheld my bitter tears and averted his eyes before sinking to his knee again and holding open his arms. At once I slid from my chair and hugged him close and felt him gently pet my hair. I heard the pain nip at the back of his throat as he said into my dark mane, "When I return, we'll talk more about the League of Shadows, sweetheart. Just remember that everything I do, I do for you and Talia..."

I sobbed so hard I didn't quite hear him utter staunchly in the cosy warmth of his quarters,

"You and your sister _will_ have a legacy to inherit when I am no more. I swear to it."

* * *

So it was, he left the very next day. His departure brought forth by whatever it was that demanded his attention. I stood rigidly at the window and watched him leave; with him he took Talia's friend and protector and a brace of other Initiates. I felt betrayed as I glared out of the window and watched him leave me behind but then I felt a pang of guilt for my unreasonable attitude and pushed it back. I was so fixated on the little black ants milling around the yard getting ready to depart; I didn't sense Al come up behind me. His presence was only felt when I felt his hand come down on my shoulder gently, affectionately; welcomed.

"When he comes back, you will be strong. We will make you strong, child."

"Can you really?" I asked without looking up and I heard his smirk as he spoke,

"Of course; you have talent. As the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul you must be strong."

"Must be strong..." I uttered softly. "I _am_ his daughter...I must be strong."

"Then we will begin right now. Say farewell to that heart, Algol. To be hard is to have no heart."


	5. Winter Stole Summer's Thrill

**v.**

"_I don't wanna' beg your pardon, and I don't wanna' ask you why, no. _

_But if I was to go my own way...would I have to pass you by?_"

* * *

The days were drawn-out, boring and lonely without my father and without Talia. After two months, still Father had not returned. My training came along at an amazing pace. Al watched me in quiet awe; he would never say, but I could see the sparkle in his ebony eyes as he would observe my power; my strength and my cunning. More than once he had to wrestle me from the flailing body of the Initiates; frenzied as I was in what seemed to be exile. Driven to madness at the sheer hurtfulness of my punishment my father – it seemed – was instilling.

I felt abandoned. Left to freeze in the cold by my father; he had done to me what he had done to Talia but there was a difference; he had sent Talia away from him, he had left me behind. Stranded, at a loose end, utterly alone; I turned to the darkness in my mind; whipped round, lightning fast, parried a blow, flounced out of the way of an attack gracefully; I channelled my loneliness, my isolation into my training. I could feel myself becoming to some extent lethal, an opponent to be reckoned with. Deadly and clever, it seemed I was everything my father had wished for me to be; Al commented that even at the tender age of nine, I was something else, something implacable.

Nepal was truly a beautiful place; tranquil, frozen and full of peace. My relationship with my mentor, Al, became more solid in my seclusion. We never spoke much – he, not being fluent in English and my father's express orders that I was to communicate to nobody in any other language _except _English – meant we could not converse very well. It was almost animalistic, our interactions. If I was upset, or felt lonesome and empty; Al would place a big arm around my shoulders and pull me close, his very presence was enough to stem my rage at my father's abandonment. When I excelled during my training, Al would nod his head; his eyes glinting as he beheld his pupil, filled with pride. He'd smile his dark smile and I knew that he knew that there was something more to me; something deep and dark that could not be saddled, rather led, rather... employed.

On one of the rare occasions we spoke during this time, he looked upon me one day; he had been my mentor for no less than three months at this point, I looked up trustingly into his eyes which were as black as a beetle's back, he said quietly in his soft, mellow voice;

"Algol, how do you feel? Are you happy here?"

I was hesitant; I looked away – peeping back, his gaze stifled my lies and I shrugged.

"No...I want my father and I want to see my sister. I miss them, Al."

I replied to him in Arabic and he nodded slowly and murmured,

"You still have not learned...To be a member of the League of Shadows is to be forlorn."

"I thought we were a brotherhood?" I replied tartly and he chuckled at my wit,

"We are, but one must work alone. You break your bread with your brothers but you do not fight beside them."

He regarded me and reached out a soft dark hand and patted my messy hair and whispered,

"When we began your training, I told you to bid farewell, your heart. You will do this, Algol. You will learn."

"I don't want to be alone..."

"You never will be alone; the League of Shadows will always have a place for you; come good or ill, but you must learn to become something more; what can you bring to the League?"

I thought a moment; what could I bring to the League of Shadows? I had no idea, but the look on Al's face, I thought that maybe he knew and was just waiting for me to say what he did know...But I was at a loss and shook my head, deciding not to know. He shook his head slowly,

"Someday soon you'll know and when you do...The League will have more than it ever has had."

"What do you mean?" I asked and he looked away, out over the mountains.

"You have such talent and such power, but none of the restraint. None of the control; once you stop _feeling_,"

His eyes were riveted back on to me and he said quietly,

"Then you will know what it is that you will bring to our Order. You're father has plans for you-"

"My father has forsaken me-"

"Algol! Enough. I won't sit here and listen to you speak badly of your father. Ra's Al Ghul is a great man, your father and your namesake. You have no idea what greatness has been bestowed upon you."

"If I am so great, why did he leave me here? Where is he?"

Al's face was contorted with trepidation; he knew he had spoken to me too much already, but something must have been nagging at his mind to make him speak to me in the first place.

"That is enough for today, Algol. You should return to your chamber and practise you're English. It does you know good to wag your tongue to a vernacular you already know so well. Go on."

His voice was sad and I felt ashamed of my attitude; however, I knew what I felt and what I truly felt was that I had been betrayed by my only family. Father had took off nigh on three months ago; all that that without one scrap of news. Nobody told me anything in those days and I could feel my mind slipping.

* * *

Three months soon blended into four and then five; with nothing and no company to speak of to put my mind to, I began to knuckle down and learn English. I spoke with a thick accent; my vowels extended and my consonants sharp like I was hitting each word off of the roof of my mouth. It was an exotic accent I earned when I learned to speak English more fluently and I found that I liked the sound of it; the elegant words soon rolled off my tongue.

My ostracism continued, ongoing and never ending so it seemed; my thin little girl arms were hard now; taut with a lithe strength which I had also earned from the sweat and toil I exerted upon my young body every day. Al continued to watch and appraise my skills with growing intimacy; the closeness I felt towards him began to overshadow my doubt which concerned my own banishment from my family's inner-circle. I still didn't even know if Talia had heard anything from our father. After the four month mark I felt nothing but anger towards him, I resented my seclusion, my torment of loneliness; I let it fester and I convinced myself that my father had played a cruel trick on me; that from the day he first dropped from the sky down below into hell to fetch me, he had only done it to spite the man, my father – my real blood father – who had raped and hurt his wife to sire me. I told myself this and it helped me deal with the agony of not having him or my sister around.

It felt almost good to blame somebody, even though; deep down, I still hoped that he had not deserted me or Talia for that matter.

Salvation from boredom, sickening anguish and severe loneliness came in the form of a letter; bearing what could have been the best news my nine-year-old self had ever heard. A letter from Talia; it read happiness and tales of sunshine in China. She was learning Sambo. I smiled to read her bright letter; she was such a stark contrast to me; upbeat, bubbly, excitable and haughty; simply Talia. The best news was not of her health, nor of her progress (which far exceeded mine by the sounds of it) but she mentioned that Father had been to visit, she wrote that she had sat down and penned the letter the moment he left so she could tell me all about his brief stopover.

Talia wrote;

"_He seemed to be distracted and he spoke of you, said he was concerned about your training. Obviously, I was still raging with him for sending me away, but he brought me a great gift when he came, my friend is back with me here. He said that he would be heading out to Nepal in most likely a month from when he left here, so by the time you get this you won't have long to wait to see him..._

_I know you're the most dour-faced thing in Nepal, but for some reason he misses you...and so do I. Write me back when you get this – it's horribly lonely here, but Father says that separation is good character-building. At least I have Bane here with me now, although it's hard for us to speak because I am so busy with training. Broke my wrist last month too, so I've been told to mind myself and take it easy for now – which only adds to the boredom!_

_How have you been keeping anyway? Are you any stronger yet? I told Father that I want to spar with you when I see you again; he smiled and nodded, said that it sounded like a brilliant idea. I can't wait in all honesty...I miss you, Algol. Have you missed me? Please write back soon; it'll be winter here in China soon and it's said that the days get dark really early and there's only something, like, four hours of daylight. I think this shall me my most darkest and miserable winter, yet, Sister."_

I beamed and sat back on my large cushioned bed and laughed aloud at the thought of Father coming to see me; I immediately scooted over to my writing desk and scribbled my reply to Talia. To show off; I wrote it in English to tell her that I wasn't completely wasted here in Nepal,

"_Tal,_

_It's been lonely here too; Nepal's a beautiful place but after a while one most definitely gets bored with the snow and the cold, constant gales and so forth. What's China like? I've been reading books on it, but they have no pictures so I can't really imagine what it's like. Father brought you're friend to you? Talia, just be mindful; don't go forgoing your training just to meet him and chat like you used to do here...You know what Father will say if he hears. _

_I'd hardly say I was 'dour-face' but reading that last thing I wrote, I'd say I was more earnest that dour, ha! I hope Father comes here soon; I've been at my wit's end wondering what's been going on...When do you think we'll see each other again? And you think you'll be having the most miserable winter ever in China? In Nepal it's winter even in summer, so I wouldn't worry...At least you're not as cold as I."_

I sent my letter the very next day and smiled as I did it; I didn't tell Al that I had gotten a letter from my sister, and instead hid the comforting note under my pillow. I read and re-read it at least a hundred times during my long wait for Father to return. His homecoming was heralded by a whirl of propellers and commotion. My heart skipped when I sprang to my window and saw a dark shape, one which I recognised straight away.

* * *

_Review, loves? It takes literally a moment._

_=3_


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